He watched her consider lying and reject it; he waited while she considered the truth and rejected that, too. Ill settle for having one in the bank, she tried.
Thats the way you want to play it, OK, he said nonchalantly. His left hand suddenly snaked out and seized her wrist. But Id have thought you and your girlfriend were in pretty dire need as of now.
His large hand encircled her wrist. The sculpted muscles of his forearm stood out in strong relief, a shocking reminder of what hed lost. The grip wasnt tight against her flesh, but she sensed it was unbreakable as the bracelet of a handcuff. Micky looked up from her wrist to his implacable face and he saw a momentary clutch of fear as she wondered what lay behind his impenetrable eyes. He made his face relax into a ghost of a smile and the instant passed. He saw himself reflected in her eyes, not a trace of sinister showing now. What a strange thing to say, she said.
Its not just journalists who have contacts, Jacko said contemptuously. When you started taking an interest in me, I returned the compliment. Her names Betsy Thorne, youve been together more than a year. She acts as your PA but she is also your lover. For Christmas you bought her a Bulova watch from a Bond Street jewellers. Two weekends ago you shared a twin room overnight at a country house hotel near Oxford. You send her flowers on the twenty-third of each month. I could go on.
Circumstantial, Micky said. Her voice was cool; the skin under his grip felt like a burning ring of flesh. And none of your business.
Its not the tabloids business either, is it? But theyre digging, Micky. Its only a matter of time. You know that.
They cant find what isnt there to be found, she said, slipping into obstinacy as if it were a tailored blazer.
Theyll find it, Jacko promised her. Which is where I might be able to help.
Supposing I did need help what form would your help take?
He released her wrist. Rather than pull her arm to her and rub it, Micky let it lie where he dropped it. Economists say good money drives out bad. Its like that with journalists. You should know. Give them a better story and theyll abandon their sordid little fishing expedition.
I wont argue with that. What did you have in mind?
What about, Hospital romance for hero Jacko and TV journo? He raised one eyebrow. Micky wondered if hed practised the gesture before the mirror in adolescence.
Whats in it for you? she asked, after a moment when theyd each stared appraisingly at the other, as if measuring for romantic congruence.
Peace and quiet, Jacko said. You have no idea how many women there are out there who want to save me.
Maybe one of them would be the right one.
Jacko laughed, a dry, bitter sound. Its the Groucho Marx principle, isnt it? Not wanting to be a member of any club that would let me in. A woman whos demented enough to think that, a) I need saving and b) that shes the person for the job is by definition the worlds worst woman for me. No, Micky, what I need is camouflage. So that when I get out of here which should be quite soon I can go about my life without every brain-dead bimbo in Britain thinking Im her chance at the big time. I dont want someone who feels sorry for me. Until somebody I choose comes along, I could use the erogenous equivalent of a bulletproof vest. Fancy the job?
Now it was his turn to guess what was really happening behind her eyes. Micky was back in control of herself, maintaining the air of bland interest that would later stand her in good stead as the housebound nations favourite interviewer. I dont do ironing, was all she said.
Ive always wondered what a PA did, Jacko said, his smile as wry as his tone.
You better not let Betsy hear you say that.
Deal?
Jacko covered her hand with his. Deal, she said, turning her hand over and clasping his fingers in hers.
The stench hit Carol as soon as she opened her car door. There was nothing quite as disgusting as barbecued human flesh, and once smelled, it could never be erased from the memory. Trying not to gag too obviously, she walked the short distance to where Jim Pendlebury appeared to be conducting an impromptu press conference under the fire brigades portable arc lights. Shed spotted the journalists as soon as her driver had turned into the car park, and shed asked to be dropped nearby, well away from the phalanx of scarlet engines where fire officers were still spraying a smouldering warehouse with water. High above his colleagues, one man on a cherry picker sent a soaring arc of water above their heads on to the flaking remains of the roof. Milling around behind the fire brigade were half a dozen uniformed police officers. One or two watched Carols arrival with vague interest, but soon turned back to the more absorbing vista of the fag end of the fire.
Carol hung back as Pendlebury gave brief and noncommittal answers for the benefit of local radio and press. Once they realized they would get nothing much out of the fire chief at that stage, they dispersed. If any of them paid attention to the blonde in the trench coat, they probably assumed she was another reporter. Only the crime reporters had met Carol so far, and it was too early for this to have graduated from a news headline into a crime story. As soon as the night-shift news reporters called in that the factory fire was not only fatal but also suspected arson, the jackals on the crime beat would have their morning assignments on a plate. One or two of them might even be turfed out of bed as unceremoniously as she had been.
Pendlebury greeted Carol with a grim smile. The smell of hell, he said.
Unmistakably.
Thanks for turning out.
Thanks for tipping me off. Otherwise Id have known nothing about it till I got into the office and read the overnights. And then Id have missed the joys of a fresh crime scene, she said wryly.
Well, after our little chat the other day, I knew this one would be right up your street.
You think its our serial arsonist?
I wouldnt have phoned you at home at half past three in the morning if I hadnt been pretty sure, he said.
So what have we got?
Want to have a look?
In a minute. First, Id appreciate a verbal briefing while Im in a position to concentrate on what youre saying rather than on what my stomachs doing.
Pendlebury looked slightly surprised, as if he expected her to take such horrors in her stride. Right, he said, sounding disconcerted. We got the call just after two, from one of your patrol cars, actually. Theyd been cruising and saw the flames. We had two units here within seven minutes, but the place was well ablaze. Another three tenders were here inside the half-hour, but there was no way we were going to save the building.
And the body?
As soon as they had the fire damped down at this end of the warehouse which took about half an hour the officers became aware of the smell. That was when they called me out. Im on permanent stand-by for all fatal fires. Your lads called in CID, and I called you.
So where is the body?
Pendlebury pointed to one side of the building. As far as we can tell, it was in the corner of the loading bay. There seems to have been a kind of alcove at one end. Looking at the ash, there was probably a load of cardboard stashed at the front of it. Weve not been able to get in yet, its still too hot and too chancy in terms of walls coming down, but from what we can see and what we can smell, Id say the bodys behind or underneath all that wet ash down the back of that recess.
Theres no doubt in your mind that theres definitely a body in there? Carol was grasping at straws, and she knew it.
Theres only one thing that smells like roast human, and thats roast human, Pendlebury said bluntly. Besides, I think you can just about see the outline of the body. Come on, Ill show you.
A couple of minutes later, Carol stood by Pendleburys side at what he claimed was a safe distance from the smoking ruin. It felt uncomfortably warm to her, but she had learned when to trust the expertise of others during her years in the force. To have hung back would have been insulting. As Pendlebury pointed out the contours of the blackened form the fire and water had left at the end of the loading bay, she found herself irresistibly forming the same conclusion as the fire chief.
When can the scene-of-crime people start work? she asked dully.
Pendlebury pulled a face. Later this morning?
She nodded. Ill make sure the teams on stand-by. She turned away. This is exactly what I didnt want to happen, she said, half to herself.
It was bound to happen sooner or later. Law of averages, Pendlebury said lightly, falling into step with her as she walked back towards her car.
We should have been all over this arsonist ages ago, Carol said, angrily searching through her pockets for a tissue to wipe the wet ash from her trainers. Its sloppy policing. He should have been nabbed by now. Its our fault that hes still on the loose to kill people.
Youre not being fair on yourself, Pendlebury protested. Youve only been here five minutes, and you picked up on it right away. You mustnt blame yourself.
Carol looked up from her attempts at cleaning her shoes and scowled. Im not blaming myself, though maybe we could have put a bit more effort into the case. Im saying that somewhere along the line the police on this patch have let down the people theyre supposed to serve. And maybe you should have been a bit more forceful about making the point to my predecessor that you thought you had a firebug.
Pendlebury looked shocked. He couldnt remember the last time hed been criticized to his face by a member of another emergency service. I think youre a bit out of order, Chief Inspector, he said, made pompous by his outrage.
Im sorry you feel like that, Carol said stiffly, standing up and straightening her shoulders. But if were going to have a productive working relationship, theres no room for cosiness at the expense of honesty. I expect you to tell me if were not keeping our end of the deal. And when I see things I dont like, Ill call them. I dont want to fall out with you about this. I want to catch this guy. But were not going to make any progress if we all stand around saying it cant be helped that some poor bastard is lying there dead.
For a moment, they glared at each other, Pendlebury uncertain how to deal with her fiery determination. Then he spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. Im sorry. Youre right. I shouldnt have taken no for an answer.
Carol smiled and thrust out her hand. Lets both try and get it right from now on, OK?
They shook on it. Deal, he said. Ill talk to you later, when the forensics team have been all over it.
As she drove off, Carol had room for only one thought. She had a serial arsonist who had now become a killer on her patch. Catching him was the only show in town. By the time the forensics team had something positive to tell her, she intended to have a draft profile. By the time the inquest opened, she meant to have a suspect in custody. If John Brandon had thought she was driven when theyd worked together in Bradfield, he was in for a surprise. Carol Jordan was out to prove a lot of points to a lot of people. And if she felt discouraged along the way, the stink that clung to her nostrils would be impetus enough to get her moving again.
Shaz turned over and looked at the clock. Twenty minutes to seven. Only ten minutes since shed looked at it last. She wasnt going to fall asleep again, not now. If she was honest, she thought as she got out of bed and made for the bathroom, she probably wasnt going to sleep properly until Chris had delivered on her promise.
Asking the favour had been less awkward than shed expected, Shaz reflected as she sat on the loo and leaned over to turn on the bath taps. Time seemed to have smoothed the rough edges of her relationship with Detective Sergeant Devine until it was back where it had been before misunderstandings and false moves had abraded it to a series of painful snags.
From the start of Shazs career in the Met, Chris Devine had represented everything Shaz aspired to. There had been only two women in CID at the station where Shaz was based in West London, and Chris was the higher ranking. It was obvious why. She was a good cop with one of the best arrest records in the division. Rock solid in a crisis, hard working, imaginative and incorruptible, she also demonstrably possessed a brain and a sense of humour. Even more importantly, she could be one of the lads without ever letting anyone forget she was a woman.
Shaz had studied her like a specimen under a microscope. Where Chris was, she wanted to be, and she wanted that same respect. Already shed seen too many women officers dismissed as plonks or slits, and she was determined that would never happen to her. Shaz knew that as a brand new uniformed constable, she was an insignificant dot somewhere in Chriss peripheral vision, but somehow she insinuated herself into the older womans consciousness until, whenever they were in the station taking refs at the same time, they could invariably be found in a corner of the canteen drinking brutally strong tea and talking shop.
The very day Shaz became eligible for a CID aide posting, shed submitted her name. Chriss recommendation was enough to swing it and, a few weeks later, Shaz found herself on her first night-shift stakeout with Chris. It took her rather longer to realize that Chris was gay, and had been working on the assumption that Shazs hot pursuit was sexual rather than professional. The night her sergeant kissed her had been the worst moment of her police career.
For an instant, shed almost gone along with it, so deep-rooted was her ambition. Then reality had clicked in. Shaz might not have been much good at forming relationships, but she knew enough about herself to be clear that it was very definitely men rather than women that she wasnt connecting with. Shed recoiled from Chriss embrace more vigorously than from a sawn-off shotgun. The aftermath was something neither Shaz nor Chris could recall without an uncomfortable mixture of emotions; humiliation, embarrassment, anger and betrayal. The sensible option would probably have been for one of them to seek a transfer, but Chris wasnt prepared to abandon a patch she knew like her own back garden, and Shaz was too stubborn to give up her first best chance at making it on to a permanent CID appointment.
So theyd established an awkward armistice that allowed them to stay on the same team, though whenever they could avoid working shift together, they did. Six months before Shazs move to Leeds, Chris had been promoted and transferred to New Scotland Yard. They hadnt spoken from that day until Shaz had fetched up on Chriss doorstep looking for a favour.
Shaz chopped fresh fruit into her muesli and reflected that it had been easier than shed expected to swallow her pride and ask Chris for help, possibly because Chris had been wrong-footed by the presence in her flat and, clearly, her bed of a fingerprint technician Shaz remembered from Notting Hill Gate. When Shaz had explained what she wanted, Chris had agreed immediately, understanding exactly why Shaz was so eager to push far beyond what her course leader expected from his officers. And, again as if fate had taken a hand in Shazs life, it happened that Chris was off duty the following day, so garnering Shazs information in the minimal time available would be simple.